


Bedfellows

by Marzi



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Episode Tag, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-04
Updated: 2015-08-30
Packaged: 2018-04-12 22:10:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4496625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marzi/pseuds/Marzi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Treville and the Cardinal have a lot to talk about, more often than not. A great deal of it just happens to take place privately, and frequently within bed chambers.</p><p>A series of post-episode tie ins.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I fell into this 'ship by accident about a week ago, after which I decided to re-watch season one, wherein I got the idea to do some post-ep mini moments between the two. There will be one scene for each ep of season one. At first I thought it was all going to be hate!sex, but the smut is really going to be very minimal and tame, and most scenes in this series are just going to revolve around these two being snarky assholes to each other about the events of the episode.
> 
> Also, apparently there is supposed to be an accent on the first 'e' in Treville's name- but due to my American keyboard and how lazy I am about replacing letters with special characters, I am not going to have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Richelieu smiles at Treville when Louis calls him an honest man, and with shipper goggles on, it makes the moment great.

"You killed my men. Tried to kill Athos."

Treville's fingers closed around Richelieu's neck, and he arched into the pressure against his throat. He smiled, and whatever Treville saw in the expression prompted his immediate release. The hand that conspired to kill him drifted down, brushing against collarbone, then sternum.

"A wild accusation. Where is your proof?" He clenched his fingers into the sheets, lest his nails drag across the captain's sides and reveal his true frustrations by drawing blood.

"Your hidden smiles at my misfortune." Treville had no reservations about expressing his distaste, and dragged his nails across Richelieu's chest, scrapping his nipple.

He was taller than Treville, but underneath him in bed, it was impossible not to feel smaller. The Musketeer had broad shoulders, and corded muscles painted with scars from all his years of soldiering. Richelieu had heard himself be called imposing before, but it was an image that had to be built and maintained. Treville had it by virtue of the space he occupied, his station and reputation only bolstered it

No matter the layers and distances he put between himself and his agents at court and out in the world at large, Treville always could look at him and see where all his threads were tethered. His intuition could have been a valuable asset, if only it came with the proof necessary to have a proper hold on someone. Blackmail was a dangerous business, bluffing it only increased the jeopardy.

Treville continued to list his reasons. "Your insistence at steering the king's rule rather than guiding it."

He grabbed the captain's wrist while his hand rested on his stomach, fingers splayed across Richelieu's skin. "Your inventiveness only increases with your mistakes. Perhaps you should learn to take responsibility for your failures."

Treville's knees tightened on either side of Richelieu's hips as he shifted his weight off of his elbow and sat up. He did not try and break the grip on his wrist.

"Perhaps you should learn to let the king take responsibility for his own country."

Insufferable. "The king is but one man--"

Treville leaned forward, gripping the top of the headboard so he did not overbalance. "So are you."

Richelieu let go of his wrist then, resting his hands on the trim lines of the other man's hips. The headboard creaked and he looked up just as Treville kissed him. He was forced to raise his head from the pillows as teeth caught his lower lip. He dug his fingers into the warm skin beneath his palms as he chased the man's mouth to pull him into his own kiss.

Treville's weight pressed down on him as he finally let go of the headboard and wrapped his arms around Richelieu.

Their arguments were over for the evening.

The captain could speculate and espouse unprovable truths all he wanted, he had no evidence. If he wanted to keep Louis' trust, he couldn't go to their king with nothing but his distaste for the Cardinal. He would not engage in espionage to locate what he needed, and his political maneuvers were limited to the necessary bureaucracy that came with leadership. It was not as if he lacked the intelligence to improve his influence at court, he simply elected not to.

If he were not such an honest man, he could have been an excellent ally.


	2. Chapter 2

"Your first priority should have been the Queen's safety." Vadim's escape had been inevitable given their scheme, the manner in which he did it however, was one they needed to discuss. Especially now that the madman was finally dead.

 

"For every moment she was in danger, I can assure you, there was no other thought but protecting her."

 

Alone in his office as they were, or surrounded by the court, Richelieu had hardly expected a different response. "Oh? Then how is it she ended up held at gunpoint, a human shield, and tool for a criminal's escape?"

 

Treville scowled.

 

"Your report said you had ordered another Musketeer to get her to safety."

 

"That man--"

 

"Is not being threatened, Captain. The one being questioned here is you." Richelieu could have thanked him for such a show of loyalty towards his men. Of course responsibility would have fallen to him had anything happened, but his willingness to step in and take the punishment could be useful. The man had a frightening tendency to lay bare the chinks in his armor. The foolishness of showing a weakness was belayed by the fact he was still alive.

 

Showing his vulnerable side was a challenge. One that destroyed those who had taken him up on it the past. Richelieu was not going to fall into their ranks. "Why did you not escort the Queen yourself?"

 

He stared ahead.

 

Richelieu brought his hands together, clasping them at his front. "Do you miss it that much?"

 

"I have no idea what Your Eminence is suggesting."

 

"Battle, Treville. Do you miss being in the heat of it so much that you would put your Queen in jeopardy just for the opportunity to feel it again?"

 

For a man who always stood at attention, he somehow managed to stand straighter. The steel that flashed in his eyes was nothing new. "I am not some warmongering, bloodthirsty wretch."

 

Richelieu's lips twitched. "Was that supposed to be a comment towards me?"

 

"France and Spain could have been discussing peace by now."

 

He loosed his hands, dropping them to the papers on his desk. It would do him no good to pinch the bridge of his nose and show off the burgeoning signs of a headache. "Are you still on about those letters you lost? It is a good thing they have not turned up in the hands of our enemies."

 

"Yes, I wonder why that is."

 

They were not going to fall back into that discussion. There were no sheets in his office to blunt his nails should he feel the itch to use them as claws. Only the captain of the Musketeers could drive him so quickly towards a feral, rather than a cerebral, response.

 

His nerves had still not yet fully quieted after walking through the masses into an assassination attempt. Putting a boy, not even a Musketeer, into danger to uncover a plot was one thing. Walking into it himself, with the king and queen no less, was another thing entirely.

 

Treville seemed perfectly at ease. Of course, being rattled would be a weakness he would refuse to show in front of Richelieu.

 

The captain's indignation had proved an effective distraction, but it was time to bring the conversation back under his control. "When you walked into the assassination attempt, was it the same rush you felt when you fought instead of fleeing with your Queen?"

 

He moved forward only to stop after the first step, and Richelieu was certain it was not his desk that pulled him up short.

 

"Whatever you are trying to implicate me of, know I will not stand for it."

 

"I implicate nothing, other than sentimentality." He had found a raw, dangerous nerve far more unpredictable than his devotion to his men. He would have to think carefully on when to lay pressure on it.

 

"I will say this but once, I harbor no love for putting my own life at risk. And especially not the lives of those under my protection, or command."

 

Richelieu bowed his head, conceding that line of questioning was done with. He never considered Treville as having a death wish, or a love of reckless danger.

 

But killing, killing was another subject entirely.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, little fact about myself, I secretly want all my favs to be bloodthirsty psychopaths. Treville isn't going to suddenly become a serial killer- but this was a concession for myself. Plus, he totally could have gotten the Queen out of the way if he had just stayed with her. Re-watching the ep and seeing him put his arm around her when shit starts to go down just makes me want to write an AU where he does get her out of there, and the two of them become platonic BFFs 5eva.


	3. Chapter 3

 

"I don't suppose you know what happened to Bonnaire?"

 

"My Musketeers delivered him to you, did they not?"

 

Yes, and he could not curse a success that had helped him. "Are you aware of any unusual activity at his warehouses?"

 

Treville was stretched out on his belly over Richelieu's sheets, not a stitch on and forgoing the warmth of the duvet. He looked as content as a cat in a patch of sunlight. They never slept in each other's presence, but the good captain had his eyes closed, and the audacity to look utterly at ease.

 

"Has the king embedded himself in some trading that requires the use of his soldiers?"

 

Treville inviting himself to Richelieu's bedchamber after a success from his Musketeers was not uncommon. It was his own brand of gloating, and generally the Cardinal paid those visits no different attention than the ones when they were arguing. Tension was their catalyst. The days when their agendas temporarily aligned, the closest they ever got to peace, were days they spent apart.

 

Treville's lazy manner and deliberate obtuseness to his questions was damned infuriating this time, though.

 

"No, but the man himself has gone missing, as well as much of his wares."

 

He cracked open one of his eyes, looking up at Richelieu. "Does the king require the service of his Musketeers in order to mount a search?"

 

However much he wanted to, he could not send them on a wild goose chase without the king's order. "No. It is believed Spanish agents abducted him."

 

Treville's frown was hard to see with half his face obstructed by a pillow. "It is upsetting that Spain feels within her rights to abduct French citizens from her very capital."

 

Under different circumstances, Richelieu might have agreed with him by requesting a similar mishap to a Spanish courtier. In this case, he knew it would be pointless. The Spanish agent had help. It hadn't taken long to learn Musketeers had been at the tavern where Bonnaire had last been seen, and that his old business partner had been shaking hands with Athos not long after.

 

Holding the threat of treason over Treville's Musketeers was a delightful result to a disastrous event. If he acted quickly enough and gathered the witnesses as well as the business partner, he was sure he could get a good enough case to go to trial. Most men broke under the threat of heavy labor and imprisonment, a merchant used to pushing papers would have been easy enough to manage.

 

There was no concrete trace of events back to the captain, though. Taking out his favored regiment would only serve to anger him. Louis would be upset by the scandal, but Treville's insistence on taking full responsibility for everything under his command endeared the king. He would be forgiven within a month, and that would leave Richelieu with a very angry captain.

 

The information would have been useful had he needed leverage in order to get Treville off his back, but as things currently stood between them, there was nothing that necessitated the threat of treason. The witnesses he currently had would lose their use if he did not use them soon, but he had no intention of bringing charges forward.

 

An abundance and wasted chance for blackmail was not a position he generally found himself in.

 

Treville's eyes were closed and he once again appeared asleep. Richelieu picked up a book from where he left it on the bedside table. He knew better than to go through his personal correspondence with a Musketeer nearby.

 

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

 

Richelieu's eyes did not leave the page he was reading. "No."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes things happen on this show and I'm just like 'how the hell is that supposed to be a secret?' Then I briefly amuse myself with the thought of Richelieu and Treville both being totally aware of the majority of the clandestine things the Musketeers get up to, but honestly just not caring enough to pursue the matter because they have bigger fish to fry.
> 
> About 50% of my reason for Treville lying around naked in this bit is because I recently had a 'wait, he was one of the guys in The Fully Monty?!' and re-watched the movie. It makes watching the show 100% better at minimum. It also makes me want to see him lying around in not a lot of clothes, just because.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Religion, and certainly mid 1600s Catholicism, aren't exactly topics which I know all the ins and outs of. I tried to keep the conversation general enough so as to not be too jarring to anyone who does.

Treville typically drank alone. When he drank with his men he stayed on the outskirts, engaging only to give praise, a bottle, or put a hand on a shoulder in passing. No one needed a commanding officer who pretended to be one of them; and no matter how good a relationship he maintained with his soldiers, they needed the opportunity to vent.

 

He generally did not mind drinking alone.

 

He generally did not get drunk.

 

And he certainly did not normally get drunk with the Cardinal.

 

The wine burned his mouth. His cheeks and lips had been cut by his teeth during the blows Aramis had rained down on his face. His nose ached, though thankfully it was not broken. Had the solider done more than leave an ache in his jaw, he would have had to retaliate. As the situation stood, he was already toeing a fine line in not punishing Aramis for striking him, not to mentioned his aiding and harboring a known fugitive and attempted assassin.

 

Burying Marsac amongst his brothers had brought some closure to the incident, but he knew it would take time before he was fully trusted. He had betrayed his Musketeers, it was only right.

 

"Self-pity is a very unbecoming trait in an officer."

 

Treville glowered at the man across from him. Richelieu sipped his wine with much more reserve than Treville had been showing his.

 

"Feigned hospitality is a very unbecoming trait in a host." He finished the wine in his glass and did his best not to slam it to the table. "I should have found another way."

 

"Is five years not long enough for your wallowing?"

 

Treville stood at that, and the blur of the world as he did so told him he was farther gone than he thought. "Some men have hearts."

 

"You cannot possibly fall to pieces at every failed feint."

 

"Twenty men--"

 

"Hardly the largest number to be lost in a war."

 

"War? That was not war. That was spies and intrigue."

 

"It is a battlefield just the same, it carries the risk of death. Those who engage in it are soldiers, though of a different nature. You know this."

 

Yes, he had been subject to politics long enough to know its dangers could result in outcomes as fatal as any battlefield. "Spies choose those risks, as soldiers choose the risks of war. Those men did not know why they were there." His body slumped, though he did not retake his seat. "There is no honor in it."

 

"Is this truly about your semantics of honor, or about your guilt?"

 

Guilt yes, and shame so heavy it weighed down his tongue so that he couldn't ask for forgiveness. They were his Musketeers. His charges, and he had betrayed them.

 

Still, he was not so drunk he could not push back when attacked. "Why don't you crumble under the weight of your own sins? How do you not have guilt for all that you have done?"

 

"God grants his forgiveness to those humble enough to ask for it."

 

Treville laughed, and whatever Richelieu had been expecting from him, that surely wasn't it. "You truly believe that, don't you?"

 

"I believe in God, his charity and wisdom, yes."

 

"I cannot tell if I should envy, or pity you."

 

As a young soldier, Treville had lost his hold of God. He was bitter enough not to discuss it then, and smart enough now to still attend mass. The king was Catholic and he protected the king. Where God came into it was beyond him, but no one else needed to know that.

 

Except now, someone did.

 

"Either emotion from you would be most surprising."

 

Treville finally retook his seat. "Yes, I suppose you are right about that."

 

Richelieu refilled his glass, the barest tremor in his fingers. To a man of God, was his lack of faith truly more shocking than the acts they visited upon each other?

 

The silence gathered between them and Treville stared into his cup rather than at his companion.

 

"After all of this, are you truly still weighed down by your actions?"

 

"Perhaps... not as much as before."

 

No need to specify that 'before' was simply prior to this conversation. It would do no good to let the man know talking to him had been beneficial in any way. Even if peace and clarity had not been obtained, being able to discuss the matter with someone had been soothing.

 

He did not touch the wine again that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a malleable head canon about Treville's religious state- but for the sake of this story, he's a closeted atheist. I do believe Richelieu is devout, he just develops a really weird relationship with God after his poisoning.
> 
> I'm going to be away from my computer tomorrow, so there won't be an update. I should be back on track Saturday, though.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mentions of the suicide that took place in the ep and some very brief comments on religion. Also, through all these scenes I'm pretty sure I'm getting weirdly inconsistent with my capitalizing of captain, queen and king, and it's driving me slightly crazy, so apologies to anyone else it might be bothering. Sometimes I get halfway through writing something and then decide to settle on a different set of rules, which is stupid.

"Lack of faith is one thing, Captain, barbarism another." Richelieu's hand sought the crucifix resting on his chest, gripping it tight enough that the jewels dug into his palm.

 

"If God truly loves all his children, can't he love all the choices we make, as he gave the freedom to make them?"

 

Treville spoke as if that 'we' included him. He always had, but it was strange now knowing he did not think it so. Richelieu was still unsure of what to do with this new dimension to the man. What use was knowing him better if he could not find a purpose for it?

 

They had both stopped in front of the Cardinal's desk, leaving only a foot of distance between them. "You left a pistol with a man who should have been brought to trial."

 

When questioned, Treville had of course, avoided saying so directly.

 

"For the acts he was going to commit, or for failing you?"

 

"I work at the behest of the king, failures of others under my employ are failures to The Crown. Instead of assisting His Majesty, you seem to spend more and more time cleaning up after your Musketeers."

 

"They were not responsible for those robberies."

 

Richelieu rolled his eyes. He knew better than to hold petty grudges, it was annoying to see one still in place against him. Energy was best devoted to matters of actual importance, and having to spend extra time maneuvering around the issue was a nuisance.

 

"The point is Captain, the king's wishes were not fulfilled in part due to your Musketeers."

 

"Shall we discuss the part where you sanctioned the slaughter of women and children? Was that a part of the king's wishes?"

 

Richelieu let go of his crucifix, and closed the small gap between them in a single step. "If you think--"

 

The captain's hands were on him before he could lay a finger on the Musketeer's ornate breastplate. Their height difference while standing meant Treville's hands bunched the fabric at the shoulders of Richelieu's doublet while he dragged him down.

 

They normally kept such recklessness from his office, but they had not laid hands on each other since before the Duke of Savoy's failed assassination.

 

Treville bit at his lips as much as he kissed them, drawing out hisses of pain. Richelieu fruitlessly scratched his nails against Treville's armor before lifting his hands to hold his face. Pressure from his fingers turned the painful assault against his mouth into a more enjoyable press of lips and tongue.

 

Treville must have been quite angry still if all he wanted was to bite him to cause pain. Was it the near hanging of Porthos, or the slaughter almost enacted against French citizens that had him so worked up?

 

He backed the captain up until they struck his desk. Their layers of clothes and the breastplate prevented any finesse or more complicated maneuvering. Treville relented just as Richelieu was growing used to the idea of being confined to breathing only through his nose for the rest of his life.

 

The Musketeer dropped his hands from his shoulders to hold Richelieu's waist. The Cardinal brought his fingers to his lips and they came away bloody.

 

He glared at the man he had trapped against his desk.

 

Treville smirked. "A small price to pay, given your plans."

 

"We'll finish this later."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The smutty chapter.

They had been a united front in all but their ability to admit it.

 

Typically that meant they would have a quiet week. If it weren't for Treville's paperwork. Its fictitious nature had upset the Cardinal some.

 

"Whatever scheme you hoped to accomplish by delaying to bring that child to me has resulted in his death."

 

Accused of having a hand in infanticide would normally upset Treville, for honor's sake as much as anything else. As he currently laid, he did not give much thought to the Cardinal's words. In truth, he did not give much thought to any words; because even if Richelieu was just putting on a show for form's sake and was aware of his Musketeers' deception, and the baby's consequent survival, he did not have the current power of thought to care.

 

Treville was laid out on the Cardinal's bed, hips pressed down against the mattress as Richelieu's well oiled fingers slid in and out of his body. He would have been biting the pillows in frustration had he any near his head. His cock was trapped between the covers and his own body, and any time he tried to shift his hips to grant himself a change in pressure or a little friction, Richelieu pulled his hand away.

 

Not being able to touch himself was as bad as the slow torture being subjected on him by the very familiar and dexterous fingers of the Cardinal.

 

Sweat trailed his body as he strained not to move too much lest he be left without the other man's touch again.

 

"You put the future of France in jeopardy."

 

Treville took a breath only to moan in response as Richelieu's fingers curled inside him, causing his whole body to shudder.

 

"But of course, things did end in our favor."

 

Richelieu's free hand traveled across his back, down his spine, almost caressing the tense muscles.

 

"Up on your knees."

 

Treville's legs trembled to obey, and he was surprised he could manage. The loss of Richelieu's hands was muted by the knowledge that a change in position meant good things. Not least of which was that the simple sight of him had driven Richelieu's arousal to such extremes that they could continue with little delay.

 

It was a different brand of power, one he enjoyed as much as the respect his office granted him.

 

"My Captain."

 

His brain was still stupid with lust, but his few moments to shift position and breathe had given him back his speech. "Not my king."

 

"No, and I would never wish to be."

 

He would never deign to call the man currently behind him My Cardinal, and he could not help but feel that the possessiveness on his title had been a slip of the tongue. It was a fleeting thought he had, until all thoughts were once again chased out of his head, as Richelieu's oiled fingers wrapped around his cock.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure I've honestly run out of Treville 'fic to read. Please come scream and yell at me about Musketeer things on [tumblr](http://marzipanilla.tumblr.com/)


	7. Chapter 7

"No person, no nation, no God. Did my Musketeers hear you correctly?"

 

Having just survived an assassination attempt, his mind and body had been buzzing with energy, and his tongue had proved a little looser. It was not a sentiment he would repeat in front of anyone now. Richelieu was surprised the Musketeers had bothered to report it. Perhaps they thought he had become addled after his poisoning.

 

"Am I to take your silence as a yes?"

 

"My sentiments upon surviving an attempt on my life were a little grandiose." He stacked the papers on his desk, already tired and ready to break from his work. Treville hung back, standing just inside the doorway of the office. Richelieu had to raise his hand and beckon him before he strode across the floor.

 

"I only hope your faith and our nation make it through your... grandiose statements."

 

What did Treville think he was up to? "I assure you, my faith is intact." The question of religion was odd, coming from the captain. "And France will never come to harm from me."

 

"Louis might, if he were to have to see you suffering again."

 

"The king can be soothed." Could the captain, with this odd behavior, be turned to something more familiar, was the real question. "Disappointed I still speak of God?" Was he hoping he had someone at his side who shared his absence of faith?

 

The captain's eyes were on the book covered wall, as if he expected assassins to spring from the shelves. "On the contrary, it is good to know that your brush with death has not altered you at your core."

 

"Is that concern for my well-being, from a Musketeer?" They had rather surprisingly jumped to his aide at the trial, and after, when Luca made his much less subtle attempt. He did not recall the captain hovering over his sickbed, though.

 

Perhaps he had learned from his past mistakes and knew to stay at Her Majesty's side when danger was present.

 

"Concern on behalf of France's future. I have seen what men do, when they believe they are unstoppable." Treville's eyes finally rested on him.

 

If he was concerned for Richelieu's personal well-being, he was hiding it very well. What good would it have done the Cardinal anyway? Richelieu could hardly think of a circumstance where putting himself in danger would be of any benefit at all. He was being honest when he said he was not a cruel man, and spitefulness fell into that. He would not cut himself just to make others bleed.

 

"I am not under any delusions of immortality." His aching and still healing body reminded him enough of that. "Simply, very determined." As he stood, Treville stepped to his side, and Richelieu briefly put his hand on his shoulder.

 

"I shall await whatever comes from your determination."

 

Fortify his position, more like.

 

Richelieu smiled, and saw Treville do the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Treville kinda just stands around and watches Richelieu choke in this ep, and then sorta disappears from the narrative after that. What the heck were you up to, captain?


	8. Chapter 8

"What is perhaps the most surprising is that you actually spied on me."

 

"Every good commander knows to scout ahead before putting his men into battle." Treville's arm was bound in a sling, but with all the work splayed out on his desk, he obviously wasn't letting it slow him down.

 

Richelieu very rarely found himself at the Musketeer garrison. Visiting Treville seemed pointless when he could just summon the man to his side. His own office and lodgings were also considerably more private. It was late, but he could still hear Musketeers moving about in the yard. News of his presence would no doubt draw out more of them.

 

Their barely attained success at the competition had them all in high spirits, not to mention it would embolden the more reckless. He would have to watch himself when he left.

 

After seeing him step into the office, Treville had refused to look at him and simply went about his paperwork. It was rude, though Richelieu could privately admit that he had opened himself up to the behavior. Coming here rather than waiting for Treville to appear at his side meant he had showed weakness.

 

It did not mean he had to take the slight laying down.

 

"Need I remind you, you were the one who brought up the idea of a competition in the first place."

 

That stopped his writing and made him look up.

 

"Good men fell to Labarge. Your own captain was slain. Not to mention the lives lost while he was rampaging in Gascony under your order."

 

"The king's order. Taxes need to be collected, those are funds which support the Musketeers as well as other enterprises of the crown."

 

"Is this where you lay your new determination? Propping up killers and criminals in order to abuse good men?" Treville stood, knuckles planted on the table as he pushed himself up.

 

He had not seen the captain so riled in a long time. "The competition--"

 

"The competition! Are you so petty? Are you so without honor that you would blame your actions on the competition? Where you barred your own men from participating, and showed them so little respect?"

 

Getting cut off was one insult, to be yelled at another. "You barred your men as well."

 

"I was trying to save a life!"

 

Treville stepped away from his desk and put his back to Richelieu. He cradled his immobile arm while his shoulders heaved, obviously trying to get himself back under control.

 

Richelieu would not have it, would not lose face to this matter by appearing the unreasonable one. He knew just where to push in order to keep the captain from regaining his equilibrium. "As you took the day, I wonder why it is you find yourself so unhappy with the state of things."

 

Treville did not turn.

 

"Is it because you missed your chance?"

 

His body stilled, and Richelieu could not tell if he was even breathing.

 

"Missed your opportunity to kill?"

 

Treville turned on him then, striding across the office and shoving his palm into Richelieu's chest, making him stumble.

 

"I protect those under my command." He moved forward, forcing him back. "I devote my service to my king." The volume of his words was quickly escalating, they would draw attention if they hadn't already.

 

Richelieu was too mesmerized by the man in front of him to give him warning to quiet down.

 

"I am willing to give my life for my country. And you. You speak of France as if she were not her people. As if her citizens are all expendable pieces to be toyed with for your own amusement. As if your own men were nothing more than dogs performing tricks."

 

Richelieu was backed up against the wall by the door, Treville had pushed him there and finally stopped his advance. The volume of his little speech had lowered somewhat as it finished, but there was still an increased murmur of voices outside. Musketeers, just waiting for a reason to rush up the stairs to the office.

 

Richelieu could only stare at the man in front of him. Treville seemed to take his silence as a challenge.

 

"Get out!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered this one my favorite for a while, but I think I just had the most fun writing it. Not sure which section stands out the most to me.


	9. Chapter 9

The Cardinal was not a man who apologized. He feigned complacency when he wanted peace with another party, but never uttered a syllable that could implicate him of guilt or remorse. The closest he ever got were his placations to the king.

 

Treville sat on the edge of his bed and tried not to let the weight in his bones drag him down. His untempered anger during his last private discussion with Richelieu, and his still bound shoulder, were all the reasons he needed to avoid the man. Still, he had no excuse for all the times he did not stay away.

 

Their affair was a peculiar mix of distaste, begrudging respect, and a love of France. Their work and their personal lives could fluctuate in any manner, but the threat of exposure would always be lethal. It gave their private uses of each other an equal ground. Neither had ever bothered to use the affair to gain something from the other, except a physical release, or a few moments of quiet.

 

Treville had, not long ago, enjoyed laying in the Cardinal's bed for the peace it brought him from the outside world. Extraneous sounds did not go through those thick stone walls, and no one ever looked for him there. He was a man of station, and keeping a mistress would not raise any questions, though he had never thought to. His time and energy was best devoted to his Musketeers. Sex with the Cardinal was convenient, it required no financial or emotional upkeep.

 

Now he was giving serious thought to using the affair in the most brutal, and public, way possible.

 

If they could not gather the proof they needed of Richelieu's treachery against the queen, then Treville would step forward with his own story. He would die as well, but it would be the most effective way to remove the Cardinal from his position of power, permanently.

 

His men would likely be horrified. Treville himself was long past trying to define how he felt about it, though his struggles dealt more with the man, rather than the acts.

 

Using Labarge to win a fight that was supposed to be a test of skill for his men was one kind of despicable. Treason was a different horror, how the man could ever claim it was for the betterment of France was beyond him. Treville had believed Richelieu sincere when he had said no harm would come to his country from him. What he considered harm and how he acted in his country's name was becoming more and more suspect.

 

He had to trust his Musketeers would bring the man to justice. If they didn't, Treville would die for his country so that Richelieu would finally be forced to face the consequences of his actions. Would he grovel then, beg for forgiveness, finally apologize?

 

Treville tugged at his boots, unsure if he wanted the _I'm sorry_ s to be directed at the king, or him.

 

When he finally laid down, he could not sleep. The Cardinal was not a man who apologized, and Treville was not a man who could ever forgive him if he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one breaks the mold by only having one of them. That's because I couldn't think of anything that could happen privately between the two of them after this ep that wouldn't end with Treville trying to strangle Richelieu, even with only the use of one hand.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay on this, I moved 800 miles, was entertaining relatives, and then just wanted to a break from everything for a while. This chapter is the longest one though, and the last, so yay?

He had smiled at him.

 

Treville had looked at him in that courtroom and smiled at his suffering.

 

After his shoulder had healed, he had come to Richelieu. His anger had been much more contained, and Richelieu saw no reason to upset that. Treville had taken off his belt and the Cardinal, feeling indulgent after his attack on the man's psyche, got on his knees. In time, he might have even been able to admit the accusations he threw at the Musketeer garrison had been unwarranted. That maybe he himself had been upset in a manner that defied explanation.

 

He had thought things were returning to the status quo with them. He had been wrong.

 

Now, almost two months later, he knew why Treville avoided his bed after delighting in having him gag on his cock. He had known about his attempt on the queen's life. He had known all this time, and somehow Richelieu had not seen it.

 

Milady's growing unreliability, Charlotte plaguing the court on behalf of her father, Treville's then inexplicable avoidance of him; he had gotten flustered, short tempered. He had become malleable to deception.

 

His attempt on the queen's life had been brought out into the open, and Treville had dared to smile at him when he showed relief at Louis' ignorance of the matter. Treville would not be so smug if he had seen the way Aramis gazed at their queen. If the Musketeers thought they finally had a leash on him, they were wrong.

 

Richelieu did not want to go to the Musketeer garrison and replay his last disastrous visit. He knew better than to try and summon Treville to his side on anything less than official business, so he waited at the palace grounds until the captain left. Then he very politely asked him to join him in his carriage.

 

For far too long, Treville simply stared at him before opening the door and pulling himself inside. Richelieu let the driver know to start moving, and the creak of the wheels filled the silence. The captain kept his gaze on the window, possibly tracking the landscape to make sure he was not taken out of Paris.

 

His captain. He had been damned foolish to ever let that phrase slip out of his mouth. Did Treville even remember hearing it? They had long been adversaries, a kind of familiarity, a certain possessiveness, had developed in Richelieu because of it. That was the simplest explanation he had come up for himself.

 

He did not want to have to be the one to break the silence, but Treville accepting the invitation and coming with him seemed the only concession he was getting. “What will you do now?”

 

Treville finally turned his gaze away from the window and looked at him. “That depends on you.”

 

He wet his lips and nearly smiled, unable to resist. “No order from my captain now that I am at your command?”

 

“I did not do this to seek power.”

 

“Yet you have it, all the same.” Here he was, practically lying down and showing his belly. It went against his better instincts, but the captain's reticence to admit he had the upper hand was strange.

 

He looked away again, and something in his expression made Richelieu's skin grow cold.

 

“I would have died just to see you brought under control.”

 

So that was what plagued him. A power both of them held, but had never used before. Richelieu hoped his next words were free of tremor. “Should I be flattered?”

 

That Treville had even considered such a course of action was startling. Their relationship crossed many moral lines, and their opinions of each other, as well as the actions they took, were sometimes quite unfavorable. Such a thought was something new to them, though. Mutually assured destruction was perhaps the most intimate thing they had.

 

Richelieu would almost call it romantic, if death were not the only outcome.

 

Treville huffed. “Flattery is where your mind goes. This isn't about you, this is about France. It is about Louis. The only way that this is about you is that you have failed both.”

 

The outburst gave Richelieu time to recover himself. “An heir would have secured France.” Louis' drunken ramblings could also have very well been a true command for a dead queen.

 

“The queen is pregnant.”

 

Considering the last one had ended in miscarriage, it was no guarantee of anything.

 

“If you had patience and faith, perhaps you would not have taken such drastic action.” Treville's hands toyed with the hat in his lap, but his eyes were locked on Richelieu. “Then again, perhaps you would have.”

 

“You think so little of me.”

 

“You have forced me to.”

 

The belief behind his words stung more than Richelieu would ever admit. Treville looked back out the window, and though he understood their conversation to now be over, he let the carriage continue on a moment longer. Richelieu had the disconcerting thought that this would be the last time the two of them spoke like this. Not privately, no, their positions at court forced that on them, but personally. Treville's acceptance that he would die rather than let Richelieu go unpunished had changed things.

 

Once he had time to reflect on it, he was certain it would change things for him, too.

 

When the carriage stopped, Richelieu leaned out the door to gives his last words to Treville.

 

“I have faith, Captain. In God, in France, and the king's Musketeers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There it is! The end of my little post-ep musings. If you were wondering, the last chapter wasn't the angry blowjob because all these take place pretty close to immediately after the events of the episode, and that happened a while after Knight Takes Queen. I had fun with these two, and will definitely be returning to them in other forms.
> 
> As for rambling commentary on the ep itself- what the hell was Richelieu thinking, saying his plans out loud? He had to have been seriously addled to have that Disney villain moment.


End file.
